When both men nodded, he gave Evie’s hand a squeeze, and led them around the large stone table. Before going through the jagged cave opening, he paused to listen. He had to be sure no one would attack or alert others to their presence. When he heard nothing moving about, he crept forward.
Men speaking in the distance echoed off the stone walls, and he stopped. When the sound moved away, he released his breath and continued on. Another explosion from above rattled the cave, showering them with dirt and rocks. Jeremy wiped his eyes as he heard Blade sneeze. He glanced back to Evie, who had brown-gray dust coating her hair. “Are you all right?” he asked softly.
“Yes.” She glanced toward the three cave openings ahead. The lights from the torches affixed to the walls flickered in her eyes and her brows crinkled in concern. “I’m not certain I remember how to get out.”
He winked down at her. “Not to worry, pet. I remember the way.”
As her worried frown melted into a smile of relief, Jeremy turned back toward the three openings. Having Evie believe in him did strange things to his insides. She didn’t question or fret over his answer, but simply believed. His hand tightened on hers. He had to do something to get her out of the Guardians organization. Evie was good and kind. If she continued with the Guardians, she would never be the same. It would harden her softness, deaden her spirit, and blacken her purity. She would change for the worse, and there would be no going back. He saw this happen too many times before. If he didn’t find a way to stop her, she would be lost forever, and he couldn’t live with not trying. But first, he had to get her the hell away from Montague.
Jeremy led them silently through the cold, dim caves. From time to time, he heard men’s voices or footsteps coming their way. He would direct Evie, Dragon, and Blade into one of the other caves until the danger passed, then he’d bring them back to the correct course. Another explosion shook the estate and Jeremy wondered what Ghost was using to make such an effective diversion. Fortunately, the last blast cleared the remaining men from the caves and they were able to reach the door that led directly to the mansion without being caught.
Jeremy wiped his brow, then pulled the iron ring to open the door. He swallowed back a rather nasty expletive and turned to the others. As he opened his mouth, Evie held up an old, iron key. It was the same one she had filched from his pocket after he had filched it from her hand. Most likely, the very thing she had filched from Montague. Well, that explained how she managed to get the cell door open.
Taking the key, Jeremy tried the lock and frowned. “It doesn’t work,” he said softly over his shoulder. His mind worked furiously for another way out. After Ghost had retrieved him from the stables where he had been hiding for hours, they had navigated through the eerily quiet house to a long gallery. An old fellow stood holding a tapestry aside for two men, who slipped through a heavy oak-planked door. Ghost told him that was where Montague had taken Evie and they formed a quick plan. Belle had already managed to sneak from her room to ready the horses, according to Ghost. Jeremy would retrieve Evie while Ghost created a diversion so they could escape. And after Ghost had sneaked into another room and rattled some furniture, the old fellow guarding the tapestry left to investigate. Jeremy slipped easily inside and followed the two men who had just entered.
He turned to face the others. “Perhaps one of the other caves leads—”
“No,” Evie said, shaking her head. “Montague said people have died trying to find their way out of the other caves.” She crossed her arms. “I don’t think he was simply trying to frighten me.” She moved closer and glanced around him. “Perhaps I can do something here.”
Jeremy started to make some witty remark when she squeezed by him to study the lock. Then she sank to her knees, unmindful of the dirt and grime covering the stone floor.
“Bring that torch closer. Yes, hold it right there,” she said, pulling some pins from her hair. “Do you have a knife or a dagger?”
What could it hurt? Jeremy reached into his coat and handed her the long knife he carried.
“Thank you,” she said and after twisting the pins together, she inserted the tip of the blade into the lock. Chewing on her bottom lip, she used the pins to dig around.
Jeremy crossed his arms and smiled down at Evie. After a minute of watching her tiny fingers work the ancient rusty lock, he shook his head. This was never going to wor—
The click made him jerk to attention.
“There.” Evie rose and handed him back the knife. With a satisfied grin, she shook some of the dust from the front of her red robe. “Now, we should ge—”
“Wait.” Jeremy placed a hand on her shoulder to keep her from darting out of the door and possibly into a room full of Viper’s men. But she reached up and covered his hand with hers, causing an unsettling bolt of desire to race through his body. He completely forgot what he was about to say. And as he watched the torchlight flicker and skip in her eyes, all he could think about was kissing her soft, parted lips. He even started to lean forward when the scuffling sound behind him brought him back to the mission at hand.
Clearing his throat, Jeremy placed the torch into the iron holder to the left of the door, then put a finger against his lips before taking hold of the round door pull.
Evie nodded and stepped back behind him.
Carefully, he pulled the door open an inch, just to make certain no one was standing there ready to attack, and immediately smelled charred wood and burnt fabric in the air. He also found that the tapestry covered his view into the gallery. Holding his breath, he opened the door wide enough to slip behind the fabric. He gave the signal for the others to stay put while he listened for sounds of people nearby. Men shouted in the distance, although he could not tell exactly how far away they were, and something heavy crashed onto the floor from the room directly above. Nothing moved within the gallery. Pulling his knife from his pocket, he moved the tapestry aside and quickly scanned the room.
Seeing no one about, he turned back to the door. “Belle is waiting for us. Come.” He settled the black hood over his head and crept out from behind the tapestry. Thick gray smoke clung heavy in the air and burned his eyes. He swallowed several times, his throat already raw.
They walked further down the hall when a maid rushed from the room to the left and bumped right into Jeremy. He went rigid, waiting for her to open her mouth and let out a shriek. Instead, she dipped a nervous curtsey. “Pardon, milord.”
That gave Jeremy an idea. Before she could dash away, he cleared his throat. “Where is everyone?”
Keeping her head down, she twisted her hands together before her. “Chasing tha’ fellow wot started the fires, milord. Second floor.”
Jeremy moved to the side and swept out a hand out from the robe. “You may continue with what you were doing.”
The maid dipped another curtsey and dashed away.
Typically, Jeremy found that if he acted as though he had every authority to ask questions, people, especially servants, would comply without reservation. With a nod to the others, he started to move toward the door at the end of the hall, but stopped when he noticed Evie sneaking into a room.
Blast it all! Was that woman trying to get caught?
With a sigh, he told Blade and Dragon to continue outside where Belle waited. He would go retrieve Evie and get them all the hell out of here.
Cursing under his breath, Jeremy rushed through the doorway. He wiped his stinging eyes and glanced around. Finding Evie behind the massive oak desk, rifling through papers, he marched up to her. “What are you doing? We have to leave.” He put his hands on his hips as she continued her search. “Now, Evie.”
“One more minute.”
Glancing toward the cracked door, seeing a thin stream of gray smoke spilling in, Jeremy shook his head. “We cannot get cau—what is that you have there?” He rounded the desk and plucked the ledger from her hands. The small coiled snake imprint on the cover could only mean one thing. His heart lurched with excitement a
s he thumbed through the pages and saw the neat columns of numbers.
Tucking the ledger into his coat, he grabbed Evie’s hand and prepared to pull her toward the door, but stopped short when he heard men’s voices coming from the hallway. Instead, he tucked them behind the heavy damask curtains to their right and held Evie close.
“Look inside the study, Lars. I will check the library. Lord Montague will be furious if we don’t find them,” Lord Sheffield said.
Footsteps sounded on the wooden parquet floor, then stopped. Jeremy wished he could see what the man was doing but dared not chance a peek. The moving curtains might give them away. Instead, he held still and enjoyed the warm softness of holding Evie in his arms. Something clicked into place as he stood there inhaling the lavender sweetness rising up from her hair. He lowered his lips to her temple, trying to identify the strange warm tingles blooming within his chest. It was lust, certainly. The evidence of that was growing firm in a southern direction. Yet, another emotion played around inside him, something foreign. Something he could not name.
And then a small piece of the puzzle slipped into place. Outer beauty attracted him, certainly. He smiled briefly when he recalled his reaction to seeing the mysterious Helen of Troy at the masque and how he knew he would kiss her before the evening was at an end. Typically, he would have kissed her and then dismissed her, as he’d done a thousand times before. But she had run. From him. And he had to learn her identity.
Jeremy listened to the man move throughout the room and his lips made their way to Evie’s soft cheek. Not only had he been stunned to learn Helen was the much-changed Lady Evelyn Thornton, but to find out she had joined the Guardians had been beyond imagining. And he was pretty certain he knew why she wished to join them. Most certainly to forget about him.
His lips grazed the tip of her ear and he felt her shudder against him.
The man within the study moved closer to the desk, bringing Jeremy out of his thoughts. He held his breath and tightened his arms around Evie. His ears strained to catch every sound. From the wind slapping a loose shutter against the outer wall in the next room to the ticking ormolu clock on the mantle. He heard the scraping of a chair being pulled back about two feet away and knew the man was peering under the desk.
Closing his eyes, Jeremy prayed the man wouldn’t think to look behind the curtains. He clenched his jaw, knowing that if the man came any closer, he would have to strike. One hard punch to the middle part of the nose. Hopefully, that would be effective enough to keep the bastard from shouting for help.
The sound of the chair moving back into place brought Jeremy’s eyes open. He glanced at the folds of the fabric before him, watching for movement, waiting for the man to wrench the curtains apart. The weak daylight coming into the window behind him held just enough light to watch the fabric. Fuzzy gray dust motes swirled and spun in the hazy air. His ears strained to catch every sound the man made. The tap of a heel, followed by the slight creak of leather, then a moaning piece of parquet wood.
Four stubby fingers with dirty fingernails protruded into the crack of the curtains and Evie buried her head further into his chest. Jeremy’s muscles tensed. He balled his hands into fists, ready to strike, ready to protect Evie to the death, if needed. She would not be taken by that madman and made a sacrifice. No bloody way was he going to let that happen. He kept his eyes on the fingers curling around the red damask and cleared the gruesome images from his mind. He would think of nothing but immobilizing the man about to pull apart the curtains and find their hiding space.
“Oy, Lars, they’re upstairs. Come!”
The fingers disappeared and the sound of heavy bootsteps retreating from the room echoed in the silence. Jeremy let out his breath slowly and swallowed down the frantically hammering heart lodged in his throat. He glanced down.
Evie leaned back and instead of seeing tears as he anticipated, she was actually smiling. Smiling! A grin spreading ear to bloody ear.
“What is so amusing?” he whispered.
“Ghost really needs to work on that Cockney accent. I can’t believe it fooled Lars.”
Just as Jeremy was about to tell Evie that was not Ghost, he heard a heavy crash, followed by a thud. With a swift intake of breath, he parted the curtains in time to see Ghost stepping over the immobile Lars on the ground, half in, half out of the room.
Glancing around, Ghost spotted them behind the curtains and motioned them forward. Jeremy grabbed Evie’s hand and they followed Ghost from the mansion and out into the cool, gray morning. Breathing in some fresh air to try and squeeze all the smoke from his lungs, he glanced up at the sky, to the thick clouds promising another day of rain, and frowned. That could slow them down.
As they dashed toward the stables, Jeremy asked, “Where are the others?”
Ghost glanced over his shoulder. “Belle has Blade, Dragon, and Evie’s maid in the carriage. We couldn’t find the driver so Dragon has the reins.” The man flashed a white grin across his sooty face. “Said he still remembers how to drive a team after all these years.”
They rushed around the stables, where Ghost had his horse and two of Montague’s finest blacks saddled near a group of birch trees.
“Belle’s idea,” his friend explained. “And we let out all the other horses. When they smelled the smoke from the mansion, it was easy to frighten them off. Probably two miles away by now.”
Jeremy nodded. “Will make following us much more difficult.” He glanced around the corner of the building to check the mansion. When he saw no movement, he turned back to his friend. “I need you to watch my cousin, Myran. And keep an eye out for anything unusual. I don’t think anyone saw me here, but I can’t be certain of that. Myran could be in danger.”
Ghost snapped his brows together. “You aren’t coming back to London? Elder will want a report.”
Glancing over his shoulder, Jeremy found Evie standing beside a tall black gelding, shivering in the damp, cold air. He shrugged out of the black robe and settled it around her trembling shoulders. “Here, this will help,” he said and wiped away several black fibers from his creamy white cravat.
She smiled a tired smile up at him. A mahogany curl slipped down to the curve of her pale cheek and Jeremy knew he had to get her away. Fast. Turning back to his friend, he said, “Amelia is certain to learn the fellow in that bed is not me. Tell her it is Myran and I had to travel to Windemere on business.” He took a peek over his shoulder and softened his tone. “I will see Evie safe before returning. That devil cannot get his hands on her.”
A light of understanding dawned in Ghost’s dark eyes. “Contact me soon.”
Jeremy gave a sharp nod and watched his friend vault up into the saddle and race away, the horse’s hooves throwing up clods of mud and grass. Knowing they were short on time, he turned to Evie. “Are you ready?” Then a thought occurred that had him worried. “Can you ride?”
She pursed her lips. “Yes. Although I’m not sure my dress will permit me much freedom.”
He gave a wolfish smile. “You can always remove it, pet.”
Giving him a perturbed frown, she turned around before reaching down and adjusting the dress up to her waist. Too bad the robes hid what she was doing, Jeremy thought. He would certainly have enjoyed watching. “There, now I am ready,” she said and turned to the horse.
Still grinning from his lusty imaginings, he helped her up into the saddle. Chancing another peek back at the mansion and not seeing a troop spilling out of the doors, he jumped up into his saddle.
“Where are we going?”
“I haven’t quite decided yet,” he answered. “But both of my choices are in this direction.” He clicked his tongue and his horse moved forward. As the cold wind pushed his hair back and stung his skin, he glanced back to make sure Evie had no difficulties. It was a shame to find she handled her horse so well. He wouldn’t mind having her soft, round bottom snug against his groin. The very same part of his anatomy that stirred to life with just the slighte
st possibility of touching her.
Clenching his jaws, Jeremy turned back into the biting wind.
She urged her horse to pull alongside his. “How long will it take to reach wherever it is we are going.”
He really didn’t want to look at her. Creamy skin with pink stained cheeks, whisky colored eyes, glowing in anticipation of the next adventure, and chestnut curls bouncing wildly in the wind. At this moment, he knew exactly how Paris felt stealing Helen away. And damn it, waging war was but a small price to pay if he could only keep his prize.
Jeremy scowled at that last thought. What the deuce was he thinking? But sliding a glance over to Evie, seeing her exactly as he knew he would, brought about a sobering reality. One he never thought he’d ever admit. Not only would he not let anyone else have her. He fully intended to keep her.
Forever.
Looking toward the rolling downs ahead, he took a slow, calming breath. “I have decided where we are going.”
“Where?”
The excitement in her voice made him frown. Evie really shouldn’t like to be so adventurous.
“Well? Are you going to tell me, or am I to guess?”
He straightened his spine, determined to have his way now that he’d made up his mind. “Gretna Green.”
When silence met those words, he glanced back to find she had slowed her horse. A confused frown puckered her brows, then she glanced up at him. “Why do we need to go there?” Then her eyes widened and she raced up to his side. “Did you learn something about Viper’s Nest? Are they there do—”
“This isn’t about them.”
“Then why are we going there?” She shook her head. “I don’t understand.”
He reached out and took the reins from her hands, stopping their horses. Evie had a gray smudge across her chin and he reached out to wipe it away with his thumb. Touching her was a mistake because he wanted to pull her into his lap and kiss her senseless. Instead, he drew back and cleared his throat. “We are going to a wedding.”
Lord Rogue Page 12